


with your cough drop coloured tongue

by diamantrouge



Series: Indecentber 2020 Prompt Selection [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: (Vector is 17), Aged-Up Character(s), Barian household shenanigans, Broom closets are Bekurio culture, F/M, Oral Sex, Resolved Sexual Tension, Tongue Piercings, Vector gets bullied, postcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:34:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28350993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diamantrouge/pseuds/diamantrouge
Summary: Vector decides to go for a rebellious aesthetic. It kind of backfires - except when it doesn't.
Relationships: Kamishiro Rio/Mizael (implied), Kamishiro Rio/Vector
Series: Indecentber 2020 Prompt Selection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076240
Comments: 10
Kudos: 11





	with your cough drop coloured tongue

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: this fic contains fairly low amounts of alcohol and teenagers being teenagers, I guess.  
> Indecentber Prompt fill, a combination of 23+24 ("Make up sex" + "Cunnilingus"). There might be more soon because I'm on a raging YGO high and I'm a rabid multishipper.

Vector didn’t think how a tongue stud would very soon turn into a lesson in planning things beforehand – as opposed to jumping right into them.

In his defence, someone had lost a coupon on the way to Heartland High and one sleepless night had taught him that yes – you can get pierced without further authorization once you turn sixteen.

And, if human math wasn’t betraying him, he really _is_ seventeen.

His nightly web encyclopaedia adventures hadn’t taught him about the… side effects of looking hot. Which mainly involved sucking on ice cubes and having his tongue look like a raw steak.

And there was something worse – because it’s never just one thing, is it?

He had tried to sneak them into the fridge and hide them behind a jar of pickles so he wouldn’t get questioned about it. But apparently, living with six other people who have a personal vendetta against you for – as they’d put it – “causing problems on purpose” hinders your privacy by a bigger margin than Vector had calculated.

So, he just stares at his very, very sad baby food jar. Actually, he _side-eyes_ it as if he could disintegrate it by doing so. No matter how he’d begged to be spared the humiliation of eating that crap in front of the other ex-Emperors and lock himself in his room instead, they would still kindly invite him to sit with them.

So he wouldn’t feel lonely, they said.

Vector breathes through his nose, disappointed as the small glass jar doesn’t collapse under the weight of his gaze; he grits his teeth behind his lips. Rio had graciously placed the jar on a plate, even agreeing to give him his favourite spoon – the one they would always fight over at breakfast, and always ended up being given to her. Because of course, the princess always gets the last word in fights.

But the mushy disaster awaiting him isn’t even the worst part of the recovery. The loud pop of a cork reminds him of that and brings him back to the reality of a dinner that feels a lot like sleeping on a bed made of nails.

«As the youth say- _treat yourself_ », Durbe announces, pouring the first glass. It’s not as if they had been okay with off-brand beer until now; it’s just a coincidence that they decided to go big right when Vector is forced into a hospital-like diet. Durbe’s attempt at being hip and cool elicits a soft laugh from Rio. «Please, don’t say that again», she says.

Of course – _of course_ – he serves Ryouga first, because he’s just that good at being a doormat; Vector would really like to wipe the former emperor’s smirk off his face with the sole of his slipper, but he desists, focusing his rage on the baby food jar instead. The cartoon portrait of an angel-like kid stares back at him from the label, but mockingly.

«Please, don’t mind us, Vector», Mizael says, lifting his glass as if toasting to him «We all think it’s a shame you can’t celebrate my entrance in the world of salaried workers».

Vector rolls his eyes – and he won’t buy the others nodding and exchanging looks, because he’s not dumb and he can tell what they’re actually thinking.

At least, the three hundred dollars’ worth of sushi, beautifully arranged in the luxury takeaway containers, speak louder than any of their bullshit excuses. He glares at the food with an anger he only ever feels whenever Rio decides it’s appropriate to walk around the house wearing nothing under the tank tops she borrows from virtually anyone – especially him, and he suspects he’s the only one she doesn’t ask permission to. Hell, he’d swear he’d seen her wearing one of Mizael’s tiny ass crop tops once. It was awful, of course.

It seems they had collectively decided to make sure he’d _feel_ the hunger. He can tell by the sounds Rio makes every time she puts a maki roll in her mouth, chewing slowly and really _tasting_ it as if she’s not the kind of person who says she’s full after two or three dumplings – which, he has to admit, she’s always graceful enough to leave for him.

To make things worse, she’d decided to make this personal by taking the tiny pieces with her hands. When she cleans the corner of her lip with her thumb and locks eyes with him for a moment before swiping the tip of her tongue over it ever so slightly, Vector comes this close to smashing his head against the table, but resists.

Instead, he breathes sharply, refusing to answer any of the jabs and counts to ten while slowly rotating the jar cap.

Then, he counts to ten again. Because last time one of his countdowns ended, it didn’t turn out well and they had made him swear it wouldn’t happen again.

Several popsicles and a considerable amount of cussing later, Vector sticks his tongue out at his own reflection and it finally seems to be back to normal.

He grins at his own reflection, raising his eyebrows. «You, my friend, are one sexy fiend and you should act like it», he tells himself, standing with his hands on his hips; if he could, he’d parade around in his underwear, but dress codes are a thing and he can’t be bothered with facing the consequences.

Plus, the near-month of mushy stuff, ice cube snacks and an especially annoying cycle of drinking and pissing had taken its toll. And _someone_ in the house wouldn’t even bother having mercy on him by fucking other residents of the house _a bit more silently_ , perhaps.

The thought makes him shudder – and he tries to convince himself that it’s just him being annoyed and that he’s definitely not mad at Rio for picking Mizael’s face as her throne instead of his for the time being. But mostly – it’s Mizael’s smug grin whenever he walks out of Rio’s bedroom after having his silky locks pulled like the bitch he is that feels like nails on a chalkboard. And, as he already knew, counting to ten (thousands) doesn’t even help.

Which leads to him deciding he definitely did this to look hot when he takes selfies and because – contrarily to popular consensus – he can actually be self-serving without blowing stuff up or taking lives. That kind of brand is in the past now. Unfortunately.

«You done there? », Alit’s voice beyond the door distracts him from his morning musings. It dawns on him that he hasn’t, in fact, done anything he actually came into the bathroom for – there’s no sign of the shower being used, his pyjamas are balled on the floor carelessly and he hasn’t even taken his socks off. He isn’t even sure he actually brought clean underwear, but that’s not the problem: it’s not the first time he’s walked around the house with nothing but a towel around his hips, and the others should have been grateful to see him (almost) as nature intended.

Still, it’s unfair to make Alit – the least annoying of the bunch, not to mention the one who actually bought him ice cream - wait. Also, he’s the one he can be around in silence when he doesn’t want to be alone but doesn’t feel like talking – and he won’t bother him, unless he’s doing chores, then he just inevitably gets dragged in his reggaeton shenanigans and it just ends up looking like a loser version of those dance sequences from the rom-coms Alit loves so much. Whatever reggaeton is.

Vector doesn’t even feel to need to pretend to hate him anymore, so he just shouts «No dude, but you can get in the shower with me if you don’t want to wait».

The snicker dies in his throat when he hears the door clicking open and sees Alit’s head poking in. He’s wearing the brightest smile, even.

One of Alit’s undeniable qualities is that he can catch anyone off guard. Including him.

«Oh, thank goodness, it doesn’t look _as gross_ anymore», Kotori comments as soon as she catches a glimpse of what’s going on in Vector’s mouth. He stops mid-bite, shooting her a look – not even a threatening look per se, he just tilts his head and blinks slowly.

Admittedly, he’s just distracted by how the food feels against his tongue now. Not an unpleasant feeling, of course, he’s just more aware of it than ever. And moreover, he has to refrain from hitting his palate with the metal stud, running the flat of his tongue against it just because he’s intrigued. Mostly because he’s read a number of things about this sort of piercing that had made him tingle just enough to say “fuck it” and just get it.

But first of all – why does Kotori care about his piercing? Second – what exactly compels her to comment on it? Worst of it all, Vector feels a blush creeping up his cheeks, which is just as bad as having to eat literal baby food in front of his housemates.

«Nope, it’s still gross», Yuma chimes in, mouth half-full, chomping gleefully on the contents of his Duel lunch. His comment earns him an exasperated whine and an eye roll, and he has no intention of replying because he’s still adjusting to real food and wants to savour the moment.

And yes – it’s been years and he still brings those to school. But this time around, Vector can’t complain either, seeing how Alit and Girag provide for all of them like perfect housewives. Or they just see them as test subjects, which is equally amusing and doesn’t make way for frightening scenarios in which Alit has corny jokes written all over his aprons – because he does. But, in that moment he’s just grateful he doesn’t have to lock himself in a bathroom stall to have lunch anymore – and the omelette rolls will do just fine.

He just wishes Rio would do it just for him once. Speaking of which – she sits across him, resting her ass on her heels like a proper lady, emptied bento box on her thighs; she brings a strand of hair behind her ear before she shoots him a sharp look, her wine-red eyes locked on his lips.

The corners of Vector’s mouth quirk up – imperceptible enough for anyone but her to notice. It is between them, from now on. It always has been.

Rio clicks her tongue before speaking. «I have to agree with Yuma on this», she comments, stone cold as expected from the ice queen; Vector’s nose scrunches and he pouts.

«And why is that? », he replies, before taking another omelette bite – but like, menacingly. What his friend group doesn’t know is that he’s trying his best to scowl without looking like a maniac. Or maybe they know – but he just needs to focus.

He squints, bracing himself for the reply.

«It’s _vulgar_ , Vector», she chides, crossing her arms. She spits her poison all over his true name like that and it drips down his mind; the sickly-sweet way “Shingetsu” sounds on her mouth puts him off in ways he can’t really explain yet. She’d rather have her hiss his name like a curse, not differently than the way she just did.

Shots fired.

 _My eyes are up here, though_ – it’s the first reply that comes to mind, but he’ll have to scratch it in favour of something that won’t have Yuma and Kotori shrieking and the class rep fainting right on him.

Vector feels his stomach tighten as Ryouga nods in agreement. It’s mostly his fault that counting to ten (thousands) doesn’t work anymore. His lip twitches.

«Figures», he scoffs, rolling his eyes and letting out an exaggerated sigh «But why aren’t you giving me a detention slip or something like that for – say – violation of dress code rules? »

Vector can almost see the electricity going down Rio’s spine as his grin grows wider and her jaw slacks slightly, as if she’s been poked in the stomach. He leans on his palm, tapping the chopsticks on the edge of the bento box. She regains her composure in a split second. Such a shame.

«I don’t have that kind of power in the student committee», she explains, hands tight on the hem of the skirt; if someone were to look at them, like he does, they’d notice. Changing subjects has always been his things, but he can’t say he’s not at least intrigued by the way she’s picked up at least one bad habit of his. He catches himself biting his lip. «But I can have an opinion on your quirks, now, can’t I? », she retaliates, her eyes looking sterner as he leans more, getting more comfortable with his legs after moving the box out of the way. The class rep shifts away from him a bit, as if afraid to catch something by standing too close.

From Yuma and his friend’s perspective, this is probably just awkward. But they wanted him in the group, so they’ll have to deal with it – and they should be grateful that he isn’t in the mood to start throwing innuendos in just yet.

Or maybe he is? Decisions, decisions – none of them wrong.

«I suppose so – but it’s important that _I_ like it, first and foremost, so y’all can just fuck off», he says, moving a strand of loose hair out of his sight and chuckling. The sighs that follow is heavy with the heat that had started rumbling in his chest. He’s just met with a collective booing from Yuma, Tetsuo and the class rep. Alit and Kotori just exchange a look and chuckle.

Rio has got to be his favourite challenge. Not that he hasn’t cracked her down a bit already in the past – all of the past -, but it’s annoying and intriguing in equal parts that she keeps rebuilding the ice queen mask just so he can break it down again.

Or, she’s doing it just to see what lengths he’s willing to go through just to prove a point. Which would completely turn the tables, but he’s fine with it either way. He gets what he wants, in the end.

It’s the way her thighs rub together when she’s even the slightest sort of nervous that did him in, that day. No matter how she scoffs and resumes her lunch like she didn’t just throw down the gauntlet once again. He raises her eyebrows at her again when the others aren’t watching and gets a silence that feels like the equivalent of being left on read – but in real life.

Class is as boring as usual, and Vector wishes he could just bail and pretend he doesn’t need to do this for legal reasons.

His D-pad pokes out of his backpack, ever tempting. He slides down the seat a bit, his eye caught by the sun rays filtering through the blinds; Yuma is right beside him and he isn’t paying attention either, choosing instead to doodle unintelligible crap on the corners of his notebook. A couple of seats from the both of them, Alit is playing solitaire on his D-Pad and Kotori kicks him lightly in the shins at times to try and make him pay attention – at least just a bit.

Such good students, all of them, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

The guilty knot that had somehow taken a hold of the pit of his stomach loosens. He extends his hand to grab the D-pad, making sure it’s on silent before proceeding; the last time he didn’t check, he almost ended up throwing it outside the class window because Infernal Punishment exists and it comes in the form of unexpected autoplay.

Rio did give him detention that one time, actually. Good times.

He taps on the screen, making sure Yuma’s minding his own business for once. He pouts when he notices Rio’s chat isn’t lit up with notifications; not that he expected, but it prickles his ego just a bit, that she isn’t all over him.

But it wouldn’t be fun that way.

He can feel the tip of his tongue poking from the corner of his mouth as he writes.

> _Meet me at the usual place, we need to talk_
> 
> _It’s like, pretty urgent_
> 
> _And no, we can’t do this at home_

To be fair, he doesn’t want to do _this_ at home, where Ryouga is within reach. And, most importantly, Mizael is within reach and he knows how much of a little shit he can be, especially when he thinks he’s gained Rio’s favours or something. 

Also, he likes to pretend he’s got urgent matters to settle when he actually just wants to spend some quality time with her. And most importantly, she has to pay for treating him like some sort of freak over a tongue stud.

Prissy little diva that she is.

Vector’s D-pad vibrates. For someone who couldn’t care less about him – actually, scratch that. For someone who’s only ever there to keep him in check and make sure he behaves, she’s a fast replier.

> _Whatever_

He rolls his eyes as if she were there to see. But deep down, he knows she can’t deny him; having no idea what he’s up to, not putting up with whatever he’s got in mind would mean having him be dramatic about it.

Hell, he could even sprawl over her while she’s reading on the couch, demanding that she pays attention to him. That would be horrible.

The thought lingers at the back of his mind, but he can feel himself twitching as he thinks of his original plan. So he sticks with that.

The moment the closet’s door closes behind Rio’s shoulders, he’s fast to lock it from the inside and to slam a hand beside Rio’s head. His palm prickles against the wood.

Rio raises an eyebrow at him and crosses her arms, resting her back against it. There’s no trace of fear in her eyes – on the contrary, she’s looking at him half-lidded, as if expecting exactly that.

He studies her features in the semi-darkness of the tight environment they had trapped each other in. It’s not pitch black so he can distinguish most of her figure, but it’s nice to think he can just feel her up if he loses track of her.

But there’s no time for that yet. He needs to make a bold statement first; maybe she can exactly see him, but he’s sure she can feel the way his eyes are locking her in place.

Even though he’s looking up. She should stop wearing heels – okay, they’re short heels and they’re allowed, but still – to school and make the disadvantage more evident.

Not like he can’t handle her even with a few centimetres left between them, but most of his fantasies have often lingered on the thought of him maintaining his Barian form to make things more interesting.

(Can he even still do that?)

He breathes through his nose, expecting Rio to complain.

«What are you doing? », she asks, instead. And he can just feel the scowl, as much as he feels a familiar heat prickling at his stomach.

The scent of her shampoo lingers in his nostrils and makes his head spin. He could just skip the formalities and shove his tongue in her mouth like he hasn’t done in over a month, to the point the thought has him salivating – but there’s something he wants more than that, much to his own surprise.

His eyes catch a glimpse of her fingers tapping on her bicep as if keeping a tempo.

« _Apologisetome_ », he demands in one breath. There it is.

He doesn’t really know how to take the silence that follows.

«I beg your pardon? », she replies, slowly.

«You wound me, Merag», he tells her, tilting his head to the side; he quivers at the sight of her slight wince when he calls her by that name. That will do for now. He clicks his tongue before adding «Not only you insult me, you pretend not to know what you did. You should be ashamed».

She rolls her eyes and scoffs, giving him _that_ look. The look that says “are you fucking kidding me, you awful gremlin?”.

«You have got to be kidding me», she replies on cue, lifting one hand and pressing it lightly against his chest in an attempt to push him away.

There may be two reasons behind that. She either wants him gone – and, if that were the case she would have already sent him flying – or she’s toying with him and probably wants him to make a bit of a scene to stroke her huge ego.

He resists, trapping her between his palms, never looking away from her.

«Vector», the way she says his name feels like an ice dagger between his ribs, but he doesn’t care. He just grins in response.

«The school won’t close in a bit, I’ve got plenty of time», he replies in a singsong voice «You can get rid of me whenever. I’d love to see you try, actually».

«Do you ever get tired of being like this? », she asks. A rhetorical question that earns her a snicker as he presses his weight against her, his thigh resting against hers. Still closed off, for now.

He could push it forwards, but that’s not how it works with her, is it?

Also, he still really wants that apology. And he doesn’t care whether she’s aware of where his blood is rushing to.

It would be hot if she did.

«Bite me», he says, lowering his voice just enough to feel her shiver lightly «You like me the way I am»

«I don’t», she snaps, but doesn’t stop him when he leans closer, grin unfaltering. He could just collapse on her chest and beg her to let him do his thing, but that would mean giving her the upper hand – and he can’t let that happen. Not this time.

They study each other for a brief moment. «I’m glued on you like a nasty little blood leech and you aren’t pushing me away», he goads, his eyes trailing from hers down to her neck. He sees her swallowing hard, and if he’s not mistaken he can feel the shadow of a rosy blush creeping up her cheeks.

She needs this as much as he does. He sticks his tongue out, trying to close the distance, but one of her hands flies up, catching his mouth.

Of course, he flicks his tongue against her palm. The muffled shriek and the incredulous glare she shoots at him leaves a sweet aftertaste in his mouth; he snickers against her hand.

She grimaces, wiping her hand on his shirt when she removes it – which makes him laugh even harder. Not even her usual tricks are working.

«Listen, Vector», she adds, and he can just think of how much he’d like to hear his name come out all wobbly from her mouth «If I give you what you want – just this time – will you cut it out? Unlike you, I’m a very busy woman and I’d love to get this over with»

«Mh-mh, sure», he nods, eyelashes fluttering.

To be fair, he’d like to get through with his plan as well. His arms are sore from his attempt at trapping Rio, but he knows this will be worth it.

She squints, her lips pursed together. Of course she won’t trust him – she has no reason to, but she still needs something to get out of his grip without it turning into an awkward fight that wouldn’t become her gracious façade.

She decides to trust him – if the sigh is an indication of anything, she’s regretting it already. Good.

«Fine. I’m sorry, Vector», she says, without a single ounce of genuine regret. He pouts.

«And what are you sorry for? », he asks.

Rio gasps, indignant. She mouths a couple of soundless words that are probably really inappropriate considering her role and position and all that crap he couldn’t care less about.

She bites her inner cheek, eyes closed. The fact she’s breathing through her nose means he managed to piss her off, which is part of what he wanted.

Finally, she huffs. «I’m sorry for making fun of you in front of our friends», she says «Because of that stupid little metal thi-»

He can’t wait for her to form a complete sentence. It would take too much. Instead, he just cups both her cheeks and stands on his tiptoes to press his mouth against hers, silencing her.

Vector catches Rio’s surprised squeal between his lips, half-grinning in the kiss – especially because her lips move accordingly and her teeth catch his bottom lip to pull at it just sharply enough to make him hiss through his teeth. His tongue darts out to run over her lips and teeth and demand access.

The small clicking sound of the metal stud against her teeth has her pulling away from the kiss. Just as he was starting to enjoy it. Rio tilts her head to the side.

«What? », he asks, half laughing, brushing a thumb on her cheekbone.

«It feels weird», she states, raising an eyebrow. He shakes his head and presses on: «Only at first», his voice is almost a purr by that moment, as he comes closer again and the tip of his nose brushes against Rio’s «Haven’t you heard of the amazing things a tongue stud can do? », he asks in a singsong voice. It’s too late to keep beating around the bush, so it’s best to just lay his card downs all at once.

She squirms a bit under his grip, but doesn’t want to falter. «I don’t know, Vector, can you live up to the standard? », she drops the question in a falsely cold tone; he can feel her blood boiling through the warmth of her skin «I’ve had some… interesting readings about piercings a while ago».

She looks at him through fluttering eyelids, her lips slightly parted as if challenging him. Vector bites his own lip. This may mean two things: she either knew one of the reasons why he got his piercing, or she may want to get some herself; his mind threatens to trail off so he leans down again and kisses her hard, licking her mouth and begging her to let him in.

She allows it and he moves his hands down to cup her neck, tilting his head to push his tongue further in. The faint taste of cherry soda sends shivers down his spine and he presses against Rio harder, feeling himself grind slightly against her whenever her tongue grazes against the metal stud. The muffled sound that escapes her mouth only spurs him on and he draws back swiftly, only to move his mouth down on her neck.

Her scent is enough to make him throb. Strangely enough, she doesn’t wear any perfume and he blesses her lack of that specific vanity for letting him feel her as she is; he never told this to anyone, but whenever she picks a shirt of his without warning, no matter how he pretends to complain, he wears it once before throwing it in the laundry pile.

It’s his way of feeling her on him when she’s not pressing her weight against him and pinning him down. He sucks the skin at the base of her neck and earns the first truly satisfying sound from her – and he hasn’t even gotten started yet.

His tongue trails over the tender bruise and another full moan spills from her mouth. He grins against her skin, his hands resting on her hips.

«Don’t leave visible marks», she manages to say, trying her best not to sound like her knees are weak already. He laughs softly against another spot on her neck and feels her shiver.

«Oddly specific», he muses as one hand feels her up, fingers sliding upwards to look for the buttons of her uniform top. Admittedly, even though she looks gorgeous in her sailor uniform, he liked the length of her previous skirt much better. Too bad she’d always wear biker shorts underneath. This only means she knows him well enough.

The remark earns him a slap on the nape. He ignores it in favour of flicking the tip of his tongue against her earlobe, the stud clicking against her earring.

That wasn’t on purpose and feels weird enough for him to stop for a second, but he goes back to kissing the shell of her ear immediately after.

«Seriously, though», he whispers «Does this mean I can give you hickeys if it means Ryouga – or whomever - can’t see them? ».

She shudders.

«Can you not- can you not mention my brother while we’re doing this? », she asks in a snappy tone that would have killed the mood if he didn’t find it funny as he does «Also, choose wisely».

He laughs, soft against her ear, while his hand hovers over her breasts.

«I’m not wise», he murmurs, sucking the skin under her earlobe just enough to make her jump. «N-not there! », she stutters, startles, and he lets her go with a wet sound.

«You can punish me when we get home», he purrs. Or – he thinks - Ryouga will do that, but his way wouldn’t be fun. Maybe.

He pulls back and decides he’s done trying to understand how her goddamn blouse works – plus, she’d get pissy if he just tore her clothes off her like he’d intended. He yanks Rio’s top up and his eyes widen as if it’s the first time.

The hint of hardened nipples against the fabric of her sports bra has him licking his lips.

«Vector», she says, with a firm tone that doesn’t suit the moment and certainly doesn’t match her hitched breath «Stop staring».

«What, can’t wait for me to – as you like to say, put my mouth to good use? », he taunts, biting his lip once again as his free hand slides on her breast.

Rio gasps and he can see the gears grinding in her brain as she clings to the remains of her façade for a witty remark. She doesn’t deserve that advantage. He buries his face in her chest, still working a nipple through the fabric with the pad of his thumb.

She stifles a sound by biting the inside of her cheek, but the way her hands push on his shoulders give away everything he needs. He inhales more of her scent and quivers as he covers her chest with light kisses, sliding the tip of his tongue right above the rim of her bra.

Her breath hitches again and he lifts her bra up, holding it and the blouse tightly together. Vector’s free hand cups the breast he was already tending to, giving it a light squeeze that makes her groan – and he swears he can hear a drop of impatience in it. It’s barely more than a handful for him, but it’s soft enough to want to know how warm she’d feel in his mouth. Rio sucks in a breath and her fingers curl around the fabric of his shirt. He smiles against her skin.

«See, this is what happens when you’re actually nice to me», he murmurs, venomous enough to get on her nerves and make her aware that she’s letting him do as he pleases despite making a big show of how much she doesn’t need him. Before she can come up with a remark that would freeze him on the spot, he lowers his mouth to close it around the other breast, his teeth grazing lightly on her nipple.

The yelp that comes right after suits Rio much better than the sass she always gives him. Part of him knows all this is just a way to cope with the fixation he’s developed over the past three lives, growing hungrier each time.

And admittedly, this is much better than bloodshed. Sometimes.

Or maybe he’s just drunk on her scent and how it sends his brain haywire; his tongue swirls around her nipple, flicks over it, and the sensation of the fever-hot skin against the metal of the stud sends sparks down his spine. He mouths at her breast, a low hum coming from the depths of his throat as he gets more and more of her taste.

He can’t even manage to be angry at himself for moaning against her when one of her hands slides up in the tangle of his hair and her fingers curl, spurring him on. If he looked down at his underwear, by now, he’d surely see some dark spots already.

The grinding motion against her thigh doesn’t help in that. But he can’t give away much more yet.

It becomes more difficult for her to contain her moans, growing more and more high-pitched with each flick of his tongue, each pull of his hungry mouth on her sensitive breasts; and yet, he releases her, leaving her chest wet with spit and peppered with blooming marks.

He licks his lips at the sight and feels heat welling up in his loins; it takes an exercise in discipline to bring his eyes to hers instead of staring at his greatest work by now.

The brief silence is filled with their panting. Rio’s grip on his hair softens and a light whine escapes his lips before he leans in to whisper in her ear. «So? Does this live up to the standard? », he purrs.

He grins, feeling her tilt her head to the side a bit as his warm breath tickles her. It’s the right time for his lips to latch onto her neck and rip another whine from her.

«I liked it better when you weren’t smug about… this», she retorts, but the slight hesitation and the blush spread on her cheeks to almost match the colour of her eyes make it pretty clear that he’s winning. Even just a bit.

He turns her face and catches her mouth in a quick kiss, all lips and no tongue for now. Although, the temptation to nibble on her lower lip is ever-present. «Mhm, got it», he mewls, flicking the tip of his tongue over her mouth.

Vector breathes in and purses his lips. Her face is still too composed for his tastes – although, if the slight haze in her eyes is any indicator, he might be doing a good job.

He sinks to his knees slowly, never breaking eye contact. Her pupils widen and she bites her lips; his grin only grows wider as he slides his hands up her skirt, fingers sliding carefully along the rim of her thigh high stockings.

 _Who do you get all pretty for?_ – it’s what he’d like to ask, but keeps quiet instead. Deep down, he knows how self-serving she can be, and how she decided she’d do most things for herself, from now on; and even surrendering to him a bit means she’s got a lot to gain from it.

It’s not too bad, from his perspective. He can’t say he dislikes the way her pleated skirt hugs her hips, but it gets in the way; his hand wanders to her side and quickly finds the zipper, as if he’s done it countless times before – oh wait, he actually did. The skirt flops to the floor with a barely perceptible rustle.

His gaze narrows at the sight of her underwear; nothing too fancy, but black panties have an effect on him and so does she. The combination is too much to bear and he licks his lips once more. If he wasn’t on the verge of bursting he’d almost dread how thirsty he’d become.

Brushing the thought away, he leans closer and feels her shiver under his lips as he kisses the spot right under her navel, gripping at her hips for stability.

Her voice shakes, but the sound comes out fully audible. The light thud of her head against the door makes him laugh softly against her skin; his tongue trails up to her navel as he waits to hear more.

She stifles the next sound by biting her lip, but judging by the way her fingers dig into his shoulders, as if to rip something off him, he can stay satisfied. For now.

The fabric of the panties is soft against his teeth as he brings them down. He hears Rio giggle and looks back up, raising an eyebrow.

«My, my, Vector», she mewls, voice heavy with arousal – which sends another spark down to the base of his spine «You’re such an animal».

Normally, he’d be offended; instead, he just feels more saliva pool under his tongue. His hands trail down her thighs and he squeezes them right above the hem of the stockings.

«Hah, you like it a lot», he almost snarls, his voice thick with desire «A lot more than you actually should»

With that, he sinks his teeth in the flesh of her thigh, sucking hard. She only grips tighter at him in response, but the way her legs part slightly to give him more space is enough. He sucks a trail of marks inwards, licking her inner thigh, almost ignoring her sex on purpose.

She whimpers and he plants a kiss at the juncture of her thigh and hipbone. Her cussing spurs him on, but he can wait a little longer, he tells himself.

He lifts his eyes to meet hers again and he finds her staring down at him, chest heaving. If he could engrave a picture under his eyelids, it would be that – her eyes half-closed, her full lips parted and ready to spill more and more delicious sounds for him to revel in.

Barely lucid, her look grows sterner as he chooses to wait a few seconds before diving right in, tapping his finger on the other thigh. He gets a scowl from her – and she might have no idea, but if he overlapped her face with Ryouga’s in that moment, others couldn’t be able to tell the difference.

He doesn’t say that out loud, but takes notes. Instead, he opts to bring his eyes on level with her groin and blows a puff of warm air against it.

Rio squeals and he takes it as a sign to move forward, pressing his lips to her mound and running his tongue upwards. Finding her wet already is enough for a muffled moan to reverberate in his throat as he moves the short, bristly hair out of the way to expose her sensitive nub and press the flat of his tongue against it.

One of her hands leaves his shoulder and flies back to her mouth to stifle a cry when the metal stud meets the delicate flesh. Her other hand rests on his head, the grip on his hair clenching and unclenching with each change of pace; he shifts between lapping at her folds with vigour, as her taste fills his mouth and heat pools in his core, and mouthing at her sex when he’s not satisfied with her cries.

The rocking motion of Rio’s hips against his face urges him to go further – although it’s fun enough to just tease her, savouring her down to the last drop. Her scent is thicker between her legs and he can’t take it any longer.

His name spills from her lips together with an assortment of sweet nonsense he can barely make out; he could just leave her at that, he muses, but he needs it as much as she does.

One of his hands leaves her hip and travels down between his legs, struggling to undo the belt and the zipper without looking; the other trails down her thigh and grabs the back of it, right under her ass.

Vector pushes his tongue inside as he finally manages to free himself, his cock half-out of the waistband of his underwear. He palms his length with an unsteady hand, moaning against her as he twitches at his own touch, sensitive as he is. He has to be careful not to finish himself right away, and his nails rake down her thigh.

He’s almost all the way in, tongue twirling slowly as her high pitched cries turn into a hoarser wail. If his plans worked the way he wanted, he’d adjust his pace so they’d come at the same time – but things don’t go always as he wanted. Although, this is much better than anything he’d previously thought.

«There», Rio stutters, and he takes a brief peek to see the mess he’s making of her. The hand that was previously on her mouth is now playing with one of her nipples; the way she bites her lip and some loose strands of hair stick to her face, beaded with sweat, make him twitch. He’s dangerously close and he just wishes he could fill her up with just his tongue.

For now, he’ll just be content with what he’s got. He draws back and pants, catching his breath and earning a frustrated sound from her.

«Just wait a second», he pants, giving her ass a firm squeeze. He’s probably looking ridiculous, all slick with her like the messy eater he is, but she smirks at him and it’s the closest she’s ever been to drunkenness and she pets his hair so gently. That will be enough.

The metal of the tongue stud isn’t even that cold anymore, probably, but it makes Rio cry out in pleasure anyway when he flicks it against her increasingly sensitive sex again. Vector isn’t even sure whether the piercing is making any significant difference or it just gave him a confidence boost – and yet, it seems to be doing its job just fine. Plus, it makes him look rebellious enough, which annoys the twins. It’s usually a good sign.

One more stroke on his shaft and he finds himself shook, his moan muffled once again by her walls. His eyes roll back as his lips move upwards to envelop her clit, sucking softly on it.

Rio’s thighs shake and he sucks harder; her nails dig into his scalp a bit. Tugging at the remains of his focus, Vector brings his fingers in, dragging the pads along her labia, painfully slow. She bucks her hips, sucking a breath in as he slides the digits in down to the knuckle and curls them upwards as if pulling a trigger.

Her response sears his core as she rides her orgasm with a fierce pace, pushing his head towards her with both hands now. Vector hears a second thud and it takes all of his will not to laugh and have the entire mood crumbling like a castle of cards.

It’s a strange cocktail of sensations, the one brewing in his chest. His heart like a beating drum against his ribcage and the blood roaring in his ears; her taste, sending electricity down all of his body, stiffening his thighs as he approaches his climax, too.

She slows down as he laps at her with the flat of his tongue, drawing more whines from her. Her sex feels swollen and hot and he mouths at it, only ever pulling back to breathe before diving back in.

He strokes himself faster, bringing his other hand on her hip again. Vector almost gasps when he feels Rio’s finger entwining with his, the cold metal of her ring against his warm skin; she still bucks her hips lazily against his mouth.

In that moment, he sees glitter and lightning patterns behind his eyelids, almost in a flash. Vector throbs in his own hand, finally releasing all the tension, cupping the head of his cock to contain the damage.

He draws back and pants, shoulders slumping down, gaze unfocused. Were he still to his senses, he’d find the next few seconds of silence and background noise awkward.

Rio’s thighs are still shaking, though. But his batteries are down and they’d probably be locked inside the school building if they went for round two.

She crouches to his level to offer him a bundle of tissues taken straight from an abandoned paper roll nearby, silently. Before he could even notice, she turned back into the proper third-year senior all people know and love.

He looks at his dirty hand, then up to her. He grins. Rio’s relaxed expression turns into a frown.

«Don’t even think about it, you nasty little shit», she drawls, tone intimidating as if she’d caught him stealing from the vending machine in the hallway – and he did, once, and he knows exactly what she sounds like. The corners of his lips fall down into a pout.

Vector doesn’t like being reminded of his place. But he decides he likes her enough to let it slip and call it a victory anyway.

And it’s totally not because her taste is still making his head light and his cheeks hot.

**Author's Note:**

> A toast to the self-indulgent filth!


End file.
